


The Deepest Sin

by Bonfoi



Series: the original The Silver Snitch stories [12]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Content, Alternate Universe, Chan, F/M, Incest, M/M, One Shot, Parent/Child Incest, Romance, TSS, The Silver Snitch, dark thematic elements, written in 2005
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-06
Updated: 2013-07-06
Packaged: 2017-12-17 20:47:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/871801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bonfoi/pseuds/Bonfoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He hated her with a passion. Not like the passion he had for Harry Potter. Oh, no! The hate for her was bone-deep, coursing through his veins every time he remembered he was alive. What he felt for Harry wasn’t hate; he lusted after Harry’s body, he envied him his friends and allies, he even wanted to be him sometimes, but, Draco Malfoy never hated the Boy-Who-Lived. But oh, he hated Narcissa Malfoy…</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Deepest Sin

**Author's Note:**

> Please note the warnings. If rape/incest squicks you, please stop reading now. There are dark themes touched upon in this fic. Read at your own peril.
> 
> * * *
> 
> **A/N:** Originally published 07/07/2005 on The Silver Snitch.

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**_Disclaimer:_** The world of Harry Potter, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., her publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life. 

This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.

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“Get up, Potter!” The voice wouldn’t let him rest. It was always there, always making him move, breathe…live! Why? Why did it always push its way into his dreams? Why were there soft kisses on his face? Why could he feel the faintest, sweetest breath across his lips? All Harry Potter ever wanted was to be loved, and to exist in peace. Well, he had his peace…why wouldn’t the voice leave him alone to enjoy it?

hdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhd

After three months of haunting the infirmary, Draco had become a fixture. Actually, after three days, Madame Pomfrey had given up trying to remove the young man.

At seventeen, Draco already stood six-feet-two-inches and carried his lithe Quidditch-trained muscles well. His shoulders had broadened and his baby-faced angles had softened somewhat. All this on top of living through a war, and being secretly in love with the savior of the wizarding world, was enough to mature anyone. The fact that he’d been first on the scene after Harry had somehow not only killed Tom Riddle, but, incapacitated all the Death Eaters lent a patina of tragedy to an otherwise cold face. 

“Wake up, Pryderi. (1) I need you here to liven up my days, don’t you know, you insufferable prat?” His voice was always whispering into Harry’s ear, seeming to search out any response that showed the Boy Wonder was still within reach. “It’s been three months exactly, and my life is really boring without you arguing and taking the limelight.”

There was a shiver of motion, just a hint of movement, at that last comment. It had been happening more and more frequently ever since Draco had taken to pointing out Harry’s celebrity status. If not for a chance word with the Weasley’s, he wouldn’t have understood Harry’s almost rabid obsession with privacy and denying his appeal to the world of Magic. 

Draco couldn’t help himself, and he awarded Harry with a brief kiss on his eyelids. Again, a mere ripple of motion, and he had to smile. “So, you’re more interested in kisses than in popularity…” His voice trailed off as Harry’s right hand reached out blindly. Stunned but still functioning, Draco slipped his hand into that cherished appendage and cradled it gently. A random tear slipped down his face as he smiled at their clasped hands. “Oh, damn, Harry…Looks like I’ve gone and caught you again,” he whispered.

hdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhd

Narcissa Malfoy stared into the flames before her. Her Dark Lord was dead, destroyed at the hands of a teenage boy. Her husband was…somewhere…beyond her reach. And, her Precious, her Draco, was hiding behind Dumbledore and the wards of Hogwarts.

Her burning eyes flared with want. She wanted her Precious back. Under Voldemort, she’d enjoyed unlimited power over the scion of Malfoy. She wanted that delicious power back. She wanted her son back in her bed.

She remembered the first time she’s fucked her son, for that’s what it had been. A most amazing sexual experience and she’d done it as often she could those two summers, without Lucius being any the wiser. The _Imperious_ curse she’d put on Draco had seen to that detail. Draco had come home from his third year at Hogwarts, a gangly youth, just a shadow of the man he’d become, but oh…he was desirable. His fine hands, his pouty pink lips, his lithe boy’s body. She had indulged in many vices under the Dark Lord, yet, even he drew the line at incest; however, Narcissa had never denied herself anything; thus, she took her son’s virginity that summer. And, she took his innocence and dreams every night after that. For two years, he had been hers.

Her fingers had crawled under her robes, flirting with the soft skin of her inner thighs, weaving like drunken spiders on the smooth skin of her sex. She abhorred the kinky hair that grew there and had spelled it away after her first time with Draco; she loved the feel of their skins crushing together as she had him take her. With this memory, she delved into herself, rubbing and thrusting onto her fingers. 

She could remember how Draco’s cock had changed as he grew up, and she felt the memory of those changes as she stroked herself to completion. The tremors and the glow of release merely dampened her desire for her Precious. She would have him, again. They’d pay for stealing her precious boy from her!

hdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhd

Sunshine, even muted by thick curtains, will hurt the eyes of one who wakes up after three months in a coma. However, that identical sunshine showing the person whose voice had been your only lifeline over those same three months was priceless, and worth every tear. The barest whisper, “Draaccoo…Llyrrr?” (2)

The book in Draco’s lap slipped to the floor as he went from sitting to kneeling. “Harry?” Those emerald orbs were touched with silvery speckles, but, they could see him. They could see him!!! “’Bout damn time, Potter! I’ve been waiting for you for months!” The tears he’d always held in overflowed. His Pryderi, his Harry, was awake!

“Wa…ter?” Harry croaked. Draco handed him a small glass, and got a nutrient potion down his throat as well. Then a sudden shout: “ **Madame Pomfrey!** He’s done it again!” The smile in that voice could have brightened the gloomiest face, Snape’s included.

Bustling footsteps sounded, and Madame Pomfrey’s beaming face came into view. “Just hold the dear boy’s hand, Draco. I’ll examine him quickly.” A few passes of her wand, some mumbled spells, and she looked relieved. “He’s going to be fine, if a bit more magical than before.” She sighed, and smiled down at Harry. “We’ve missed you fiercely, my boy. And, I’ll thank you not to be doing anything like that again!” On that note, the mediwitch winked, nodded to both young men, and went off to spread the good news.

Hand trembling as he pushed Harry’s fringe off of his forehead, Draco gave into his softer side and climbed onto the bed to cuddle with the now-awake patient. Some tender complaining aside, they settled themselves together. “You have the most demanding voice in the world, Llyr…” Harry sighed out. Feeling his lover’s glance, he smiled. “I always said I’d follow you anywhere, as long as you talked to me…”

“Well, my fine young man, I’ll have you know that this voice is yours for forever.” Draco leaned into Harry’s neck and softly nuzzled the tender skin of his collar bone. Whispering, “I’d be lost without you, oh prat of my heart!” He could feel Harry’s chuckle, even if he couldn’t hear it.

An hour later, Madame Pomfrey and Severus Snape found Harry Potter wrapped in Draco Malfoy’s arms, much like they had been after that final battle with Voldemort, but for one difference…Both young men were smiling in their sleep like angels rewarded with their own piece of Heaven. Sharing a look, they left the pair to their healing sleep.

hdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhd

“Dumbledore, I’m here for my son.” The once dulcet tones of Narcissa Malfoy had grown strident with each minute spent in the old wizard’s presence. She had finally come for her Precious, and she would not be denied. She’d have her vengeance on Potter, and her gratification at the same time. The old fool in front of her was merely a bump in the road.

“I’m sorry I cannot help you, Mrs. Malfoy.” Albus Dumbledore had finally heard of Draco’s nightmares after the second summer of his mother’s abuse. He would no more turn the young man over to her than willingly take the Dark Mark, even if it were still possible. 

Luckily, after the defeat of Lord Voldemort, he’d hidden Lucius Malfoy away. Well, if putting him into Severus Snape’s not-so-tender-care counted as hiding. And, it was from him that Albus had the letter saving Draco from Narcissa’s clutches. A letter he’d had ratified with the Ministry of Magic and the Governors of Hogwarts. She would have to break even more laws to get to her son.

“You have no power over young Mr. Malfoy, Narcissa. I have a letter stating Draco is to be under my guardianship until he reaches his majority. With that in mind, he will stay here, under my care, until he is ready to leave.” Even Fawkes agreed with that sentiment, trilling out a series of sweet notes.

Seeing red, Narcissa pulled out her wand. Aiming at the interfering old fool, she shot off a curse, _“Crucio!”_ Unfortunately for her, the office of the Headmaster was heavily warded for such instances. The curse backfired. 

As she writhed in pain, Dumbledore stood over her. For once, the maddening twinkle was absent from his eyes. This was the mage that defeated Grindelwald. “You will **never** harm Draco again, Narcissa. You will more than likely never even be able to practice magic again due to your problem.” 

While she was still under the curse, he hexed her with _Withered Hands_ (3), thus siphoning her magic into Hogwarts’ walls. It was an ancient defense that hadn’t been used for almost five hundred years, but, the Headmaster knew if there was someone deserving of its punishment, she was passing out in front of him. _“Finite Incantatem Crucio.”_ He ended her curse, but, let the siphoning continue until only a hint of the malignant woman existed.

Taking a pinch of Floo powder, he strode to the fireplace. “St. Mungo’s, Terminal Ward.” Within minutes, a mediwitch and magical stretcher were in his office removing the insensate body of Narcissa Malfoy. Unbeknownst to them, part of the hex was still ongoing; within her ravaged—now non-magical body—Narcissa was living everything over and over again, only this time from the point-of-view of both her husband and son. She would be mad, then dead, within the space of two weeks. Unloved, and unmourned.

hdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhd

::Six months later::

“Llyr…Llyr…You have to…urgh!” An elbow to the ribs will do that to one. Harry’s eyes crept slowly open in a grimace as he surveyed his lover. Well, now, his husband. And he did love that word. In a simple ceremony, Lucius (the Lucky, in Harry’s opinion!) gave his son Draco away, while Molly Weasley brought Harry forth.

Silver-grey eyes opened languidly to see the man he’d married the evening before. As a seventeenth birthday present, his father and Dumbledore had arranged their marriage. A small affair, they had only Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Snape, Lucius and Molly to witness. Harry had somehow found an ancient binding ritual that would allow their love to only grow and deepen as they aged, and even gave them the power to have children, should they so choose. “Merlin, Pryderi, love…You’re noisy…” he murmured against Harry’s lips.

Well, what was an arm that had fallen asleep or an elbow to the ribs when your one-and-only was kissing you? Harry neither minded nor bothered with the pins-and-needles feeling. His lover was kissing him awake.

Gentle fingertips traced over muscles with the intent of rememorizing every nuance of their texture, their extent. Both men grew even more aroused as they turned in each other’s arms. “Make love to me.” Smirking grey eyes met dazed emerald ones. They had said it at the same time.

Draco’s questing fingers were closer to Harry’s hardening cock. He feathered his fingertips up and down, lightly grazing the leaking tip with his thumb. Harry’s wheezing gasps and tremors gave him the sense that he was doing just as he ought. And, to add spice, he nuzzled and nipped his way across his husband’s collar bone, leaving his mark for all to see.

Harry’s hands hadn’t been idle. He grasped Draco’s bum and kneaded it in ecstasy, grinding Draco’s arousal into his. They rubbed and gasped together. The combined pre-come of each added to the gliding sensation.

“Llyr…take…take me…” Harry gasped out. “Love me…” 

With a smirk and a soft, “As you wish!” Draco’s other hand slipped off to the side, searching for the small pot of lubricant. Ah, there it was. Dipping his fingers into the never-tip pot, he scooped a dollop onto one finger and brought it to Harry’s entrance. The night before, Harry had licked and tongued his entrance before joining them; this morning, Draco would be the traditionalist. 

He gently prodded his greased finger into the tight heat, slowly sliding into the place he never wanted to leave. A second finger, scissoring in and grazing Harry’s prostate, then a third. “Mmmm…Dra..co…pleeeaase…” Harry’s descent into incoherency was almost complete. More grazes of the prostate and Harry was a quivering mass of man, just on the verge of coming apart.

Leaning down to worship his chest, Draco licked each nipples in turn, with the barest of suckles and nips. He then proceeded to kiss his way back to Harry’s plump lips. “I love you, my Pryderi.” He kissed him, deeply, sucking his tongue and exploring that oh-so-wonderful mouth. As he did so, Draco maneuvered his way into Harry’s heat. The world waiting in awe as they became one.

When he was fully seated and waiting for his husband to adjust, Draco rocked in and out, inches at a time. “Mmm…ore….” With that command, he sped up, finally pounding in and out of the man who held his heart. “So…tight…so good! Gods…love…you…Harry!” They came within seconds of each other, crying out each other’s names like a benediction.

An hour passed, and the lovers still lay entwined on the bed. Well, why shouldn’t they? It was their honeymoon; there was no dark lord to vanquish; and, the evil that had hung over Draco’s life had been nullified. They could afford to relax.

“So, Mr. Gryffin, what do you say to staying here forever?” 

Draco still had to marvel at the devious Harry Potter…no, Gryffin. By changing his name—as the Heir of Gryffindor he had the right to it—he was trying to circumvent the rabid interest everyone paid him and his life. And, in doing so, he also was giving Draco a future of hope, not darkness. “Well, Mr. Gryffin, I say we shag like bunnies for the rest of our lives and enjoy our newfound peace.” 

With that thought, the two young lovers again consummated their marriage. In the years to come, they would fight and make-up, laugh and cry, but, they would never do it alone. After all, when you are the world’s most powerful wizard of an age, you get to have the family you want, especially after you cast the right spells.

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_~~~ Comments, like rain in the desert, are greatly appreciated.  
Thank you for reading. ~~~_

**Author's Note:**

> hdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhd
> 
> Reference:
> 
> (1) In Welsh mythology, King Pryderi of Dyfed was the son of Pwyll and Rhiannon. From: [Pryderi on Wikipedia.com](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pryderi)  
> His name means ‘worry’. [Pryderi on Pantheon.org](http://www.pantheon.org/articles/p/pryderi.html)  
> (2) In Celtic mythology, Lir ("the sea") . He is also called Llyr in Welsh. From: [Llyr on Wikipedia.com](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Llyr)  
> Also: The Welsh sea god. Llyr (Lir Llyr) is the father of Bran, Branwen, and Manawydan. He is equal to the Irish god Lir. From: [Llyr on Pantheon.org](http://www.pantheon.org/articles/l/llyr.html)  
> (3) Withered Hands was a spell made up specifically by me, for this fiction.


End file.
